In Shiny Green Ink
by OneBlueNotebook
Summary: A lot can happen over a shiny green sharpie and a drunken party afterwards. As Draco investigates his resident Bertie Botts Beans thief and other cases, Harry is upto mischief.


Draco woke up in the morning, realizing with a prickling sixth sense that he was unforgivably late for work, and with a much earthly physical awareness that he had the hangover of the century. He blinked open his eyes in the half light that permeated through the shaded windows and squinted at the clock on the bedside table. For some reason, someone's star patterned underwear was casually draped over the clock, half hiding its face.

Draco chose to ignore that fact and mentally calculated exactly how much time he had to present his visage to Clarke, his boss, before she tossed his sorry arse out the window and (possibly) struck off his name from the free weekly delivery of a bag of Bertie's Special Selections, a favour which he'd painfully extricated from her in one of her supremely rare good moods.

Eleven and a half minutes, he concluded.

Right.

He groggily turned over and attempted to get up. On further examination of his surroundings, through the haze of his splitting headache, he found a little glass with a murky liquid inside, which was kept on top of a piece of paper with something scribbled on it in a very shiny green ink. He took the glass, gulped down the liquid (the precious hangover potion, thank Merlin) and blinked at the note :

 _'' It looked like you needed the lie in._

 _There's your hangover potion._

 _I left the waffles on the table and a cuppa (your favourite chamomile!) in the teapot._

 _Don't be late!_

 _You remember what happened to Claude that third time, right? XD XD ''_

The note writer had warned him not to be late, but forgot to set up an alarm charm.

That nutcase, Draco smiled at the note.

Yes, he definitely remembered what happened to his unfortunate colleague Claude the third time he was late to work and the legendary incident with the hundred dancing can openers that followed. Draco suppressed a shudder.

He dressed while gathering his work files, brushed while he warmed the tea and decided to skip the shower (it was bloody cold outside anyway). He spelled his hair right and his face clean. He gobbled up his waffles (which were done just perfectly) and was out the door in eight and a half minutes.

Ha, thought Draco. That's a new record.

In another two minutes, he was entering the DMLE wing and heading for his office.

Saved for today at least.

However, for some strange reason, people seemed to be oddly rude today. He noticed two young witches, no doubt new recruits, stumble in their steps when he locked eyes with them while passing. The lady at the desk of Enquiry About Lost Artefacts distinctly stared at him while he was getting on the lift. Even Mr Rosenthal, the friendly elderly keeper of the ministry archives was suspiciously flumbering while saying good morning inside the lift.

Draco chose not to take notice of these minor disturbances. He kept his usual impassive, politely ignorant half curled lips and alert but aloof expression firmly fixed until he reached his office.

Casey was already there, scribbling away on an ancient file, that looked like it had been there since the time of her grandfather. She was a newbie, freshly out of Hogwarts. But she was deadly efficient. That's why Draco liked her and had scouted her out among the many hopefuls at the time of the interview.

'Got some new leads on the Willmore case then? Papers were opened back up?'

'Mhm,' she said, with her head still buried in the dusty file.

'That bloody irresponsible Gary dumped a whole lot of these stupid memos at the last moment. Apparently they're having some accounts of old Mr Willmore re-examined at Gringotts… found some fishy dealings in the 1930s. It's a stupid mess, honestly.'

'Ouch. Bad morning then.'

'The usual,' Casey laughed and looked up. For half a second, her laughing expression was frozen, then she did a double take.

'What? Something on my face?' Draco raised an eyebrow.

She was still staring unblinkingly.

'Umm… No...it's…. all fine.'

'... Right. Let's get to work.' He turned and looked at the neatly stacked files on his desk and the mind-board that was on the wall behind it, it had a spiderweb of case pictures, notes and possible connections between leads all crisscrossing in glowing silver threads. It was a particularly difficult case which he'd been trying to solve for weeks now. It was his challenge, his ultimate chase, and he liked few things in the world better than the look of the final crimson thread that he constructed, linking a complicated case in order, with the suspect clearly at the end and the validation of his theory when the Auror team was successful in finding his quarry.

He didn't emerge from his office until lunch.

* * *

In the break room, he was chewing on a couple of Berties Specials (from his lovely, free weekly supply), and contemplating whether he should order a greasy sandwich or opt for a healthier salad and juice (the man at the counter, frowned and raised his eyebrows at him quizzically when he laid eyes on Draco, for some reason. Seriously, what was up with people today?!) It was then, that he noticed, through his peripheral vision, a small huddle beside the coffee vending machine, comprising of Casey, Samantha Woods (the annoyingly chatty receptionist at the undersecretary's office) and a young unidentified bloke wearing Auror robes, all whispering and giggling excitedly and, to Draco's surprise, trying to discreetly point at him and supremely failing to be subtle. He chose to ignore them as well. He better not ask _Samantha_ the cause of her hilarity; once she started _talking_ , he'll be in for it, until he was dead. There was no stopping her.

By now, people had begun crowding the cafeteria and Draco ordered the sandwich anyway and was waiting for it to get done so he could get ba-

'Oi! Malfoy! You were terrific last night at the party!' boomed Weasley's voice in Draco's vicinity and he was excusably alarmed when a large arm was good-naturedly slung onto his shoulders and Ron continued, 'Who knew you had that much of snark hidden underneath that-' and here he stopped abruptly and looked at Draco as if he was seeing him for the first time.

'What? Weasel got your tongue?' Draco asked, rather meanly. He was a bit irritated at this strange new habit of people stopping mid sentence around him today. Weasley was a good bloke on normal days, but his sunshiny enthusiasm was a bit difficult to take on days like these.

'Umm… Okay… wow… Merlins beard…' and here, Ron gave out a nervous laugh and seemed to decide on something, split second.

By now, Casey and company, along with a few blokes from Ron's office had ambled along. Ron exchanged a glance with Casey and that further seemed to reinforce whatever mysterious decision he had made, which Casey, too, seemed to be somehow aware of.

Draco watched this silent exchange and the suppressed laughter in the faces of those around him, and he'd had enough.

'Look, either you tell me what you lot suddenly find so funny today, or just kindly get out of my field of vision. This is getting really silly.' he grouched.

He turned to Casey and continued,

'Weasley…I leave him out of the question. He's mental approximately ninety percent of the time. But Casey, I thought you were more sensible than this? I'm seriously reconsidering my decision to hire you.'

He was even further surprised to find all four of Ron, Casey, Samantha and the unidentified bloke in Auror robes shaking with suppressed mirth by the end of his little speech.

'You lot are hopeless'. Draco turned, took his sandwich and left for his office.

'I'll have to have a word with Harry regarding this.' He heard Weasley say, while loudly guffawing and Casey mumbled something in reply, also laughing.

'Mental, the lot of them, ' muttered Draco darkly.

He soon got submerged in his mind-board and the silver threads that chased after his thoughts and closed in on the perpetrator.

* * *

In the afternoon, Casey had gone out for a break and Draco still hadn't finished the filing of the new leads and was contemplating a smoke to clear his mind, when, a harried looking Hermione Granger burst into his office with an arm load of stray parchments and began without preamble : 'Draco, you've got to see these! It's outrageous! The DMLE ought to revise its clause on the-'

And there. Right there, was that stupid ass reaction. Again.

Draco sighed. Gathered his last thread of composure and began, 'Yes, you were saying?'

Hermione was still staring at him, but, with a mildly irritated expression instead of surprise. And Draco found, with minor concentration, that the irritation was apparently directed at someone else, not him.

'Oh honestly! Ronald!' she groaned.

'I'm… Draco… if you remember…?' Now Draco was mildly surprised.

'No no… Not you… really, this is unnecessary. I told him off for this. He was supposed to tell you for God's sake!'

'Tell me what? Granger, this is getting really stupid now! The whole day I'm dealing with an obnoxious bunch of morons who do nothing but giggle away like a bunch of love-struck fourth years…. My work is getting compromised. What the hell is the matter with everybody?' Draco was beyond grumpy now.

Granger was beginning to look suspiciously like she was fighting to hide a smile while her eyes rapidly traced across Draco's face and took in his disconcerted expression. This, Draco concluded, was a really apprehensive sign.

She abruptly gathered up her papers and spoke in a high, trilling voice, 'Well, never mind! I'll talk to your scary boss about these clauses. If she doesn't agree, I'll polyjuice myself into Kingsley and give her strict orders directly from the _minister_ … You'll help me, won't you?' she asked with what she hoped was an innocent, hopeful expression. Draco wasn't fooled.

'... Sure. I'll do that,' He said slowly.

Hermione left and Draco was sure he heard the faint giggles of a high, trilled voice, fading away in the corridor outside.

'Even Granger is a moron today… I wonder what else is in store…' he murmured to himself, distractedly, and immersed himself in work soon.

* * *

In the early evening, just before his day was up, he had a breakthrough in his investigations. The man was clever. Very clever. You don't see wizards like these nowadays. Bold, and desperate enough to repeat his swift crimes, yet, clever enough to erase his traces. But, even the most clever ones, let slip a slight mistake somewhere in the elaborate trail. And it was Draco's job to spot these. And spot he did.

He charmed a copy of his mind-board, with the final puzzle piece and rushed over to Clarke's office.

He burst in through the door and saw Clarke in conversation with an important looking man in Wizengamot robes.

Rosamund Clarke took one look at him and her eyebrows shot up into her hair (not this again!)

However, Draco didn't have time for chit-chat and he promptly spread his charmed mind-map in the air over her table.

Rosamund, despite her not so nice reputation, had the excellent instincts of a top notch investigator and the whole department, including Draco, grudgingly respected her abilities. She didn't interrupt him in his clipped, to the point, rapid fire explanations and quickly caught up with Draco's lead. She made the necessary calls, a team of Aurors were dispatched, with Azkaban being alerted and the Wizengamot official being handed out a bunch of memos and forms.

All this took roughly about fifteen minutes.

When all was done, Draco sat across Clarke's table and calmed down his racing heart. The adrenaline high of the past quarter hour was still coming down and he knew he had a small satisfied smile, even if faint because he was in public, pasted on his face.

Clarke looked at him for a long moment.

'I'm increasing your Bertie Botts Specials to two packages a week.'

Draco was momentarily flabbergasted by this extremely thoughtful raise.

'Hope you have children among your friends and family. You need to learn to be generous.'

Draco had a fleeting vision of his home, where there _was_ a person who really consumed more than half his share of Berties, all the time pretending to be sneaky about it. Draco, of course, knew. But he let it slip anyway. The methods of nicking the beans were so heartbreakingly adorable sometimes.

Draco suppressed a laugh. 'Yes, in fact, I do'

'Good work today.'

Draco politely nodded. No one risked babbling too much in front of Rosamund Clarke.

'I'm letting you off for the day. Go and enjoy the evening.'

Draco resisted telling her that it was almost the end of a workday anyway. He got up and neared the door.

'And, Mr Malfoy, I'm unaware about the current trends of beautification of oneself, but scribbling over the face with a very shiny green pen could hardly be the standard.'

Draco froze.

'I'll still want the full report by tomorrow. Good evening.'

Draco nodded once. Then he fled. Straight to his office, then flooed straight home. The whole day was laid out clearly in his sight now.

He had a few bones to pick with his Bertie's beans stealing _child_ at home.

* * *

Draco went home, ordered takeaway from the restaurant across the park, had it delivered, got the fire going and sat down with a cup of chamomile tea in the couch. To wait.

Any minute now.

* * *

At half past seven, exactly ten minutes later, the floo turned green and someone stepped out. He started taking off his cloak and talking before he even crossed the hearth.

'Merlin's pants! Draco! You were brilliant today! Everyone was talking about it! We had a hit and run, the stakeout guys didn't even have to wait for long. A clean ambush, a clean arrest….you were absolutely right in that last bit….The potions were really stored in the fridge. The _fridge_ for Circe's sake…we had a little skirmish, that's all….Matt got stunned, that's about it…. It was so bloody brilliant… How do you eve-'

And that's when Harry stopped. Draco was standing very close. With his hands folded across his chest and a completely unimpressed look in his eyes. The green shiny ink was still on his face, it reflected the dancing firelights.

'You… Umm….you have something…' and Harry made an aborted gesture at Draco's face and carefully kept his expression under check.

'Yes? I have what?' Draco said calmly.

Harry stood, awkwardly. He knew he'd been caught. His expression slowly turned sheepish.

He laughed nervously. Then took out his wand, conjured up some spirit and guiltily soaked his handkerchief and slowly dabbed away at Draco's face.

The chamomile tea slowly cooled on the low table beside the couch.

* * *

In the middle of the night, whispered apologies could be heard in Harry's voice.

After a silence,

'Where is that infernal muggle marking thing-'

'It's called a sharpie.'

'Shut up, Potter.'

'Sorry.'

'Where is it anyway? I want to see that nefarious barbaric plotting little piece of-'

'It's quite harmless Draco. Children fill up coloring pages with it, in fact I gave Teddy a set for his-'

'You what?!'

'Okay okay…. I take it back. I take it back! Tomorrow morning, I promise I'll owl Andromeda and replace the gift with something very useful. Like, a china set. For children of course.'

'Are you making fun of the gift I send Rose last Christmas?'

'I wouldn't dare. Absolutely not!'

More silence.

'I think I finally have some idea about the strange thief that keeps stealing my Bertie Bott beans every week.'

...

'You do?'

'I have strong suspicions.'

'And…what are you going to do about him?'

'I never said it was a 'he', Harry.'

...

'...Right. My bad.'

'I'm thinking of a different strategy. I'll label my bag of beans with your excellent shiny green marking stationery. It will say 'Property of DM. Tresspassing hands shall be spellotaped on touch'. And I'll also, have another bag of beans, labelled, 'For Mr Thief' and I shall put it out on our front porch. I'll sit in ambush the whole day, and I'll catch the perpetrator red handed.'

'...Wow….a very thorough plan,' the voice sounded rueful and apologetic again.

Sometime later.

'When did you do it anyway?' asked Draco, with a faint note of amazement.

'Uh… You were… kind of very drunk… You had a snarky commenting session with Dean and Theo and were shouting about how Hermione's _cat_ was a better human being than that _atrocious_ whomping willow that _deliberately_ scratched you in second year, which by the way, I never knew about-' and Harry started giggling.

Draco groaned.

'Merlin, just get back to the point, will you?'

Even though his voice was grumpy, in the diffuse glow of the moonlight filtering through the window, Harry could see Draco's reddened face, with a smile he was unsuccessfully trying to hide in the pillow.

'Yes, so…. I kind of flooed in from Ron's, carried you all the way to bed and you….started snoring right away. I saw the marker lying on the table…. And just…. had a…. an idea?' he finished lamely.

Draco silently shook with laughter and Harry joined in too.

'I'm sorry… were they mean to you in work today?'

'Casey, Samantha Woods and an unidentified Auror bloke are going to get mysteriously abducted tomorrow, and the Aurors won't know about it. Weasley… is your best friend, so he'll be spared, but I'm going to have some strong words with his wife about keeping him on his proper behaviour. As for his wife… I never expected Granger to be in on it too…' Draco mused, a little awestruck at Granger's little act of tomfoolery.

Harry got sleepy soon. He asked Draco one last question, in a sleep muddled voice 'Why waste that Bertie Bag on a mean thief? Can I have it instead?' and then drifted off.

Draco smiled softly and kissed the tumbled mop of hair on the sleeping head.

* * *

The next morning, Harry was invariably late for work. After yesterday's stakeout and excitement around the arrest, he slept in late. He had five and a half minutes to dump his sorry arse in Robards' office.

He met Ron at the lift, on the way to Auror headquarters, wheezing and out of breath.

Ron took one look at him and his eyebrows flew up.

'Merlin….'

Harry turned to him.

'How bad is it?'

'It's…. terrific actually. I'm starting to respect that Malfoy git,' Ron said, amused.

When settled in his desk, Harry opened his bag and found a new Bertie's Special Selections Bag with a shiny green ink label, written in neat cursive : _For My Thief_.

* * *

A/N : This is my first ever post in the Harry Potter fandom... and... umm... you know, I'd very much like to hear a word or two back from all you guys :)


End file.
